


The Reality of Monsters

by Magi_Silverwolf



Series: The Light of Mankind [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Domestic Violence, Gen, Internalized Abuse, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: Bruce Banner has always been angry, even before the accident that led to the creation of the Hulk. That didn't mean his anger was without reason.





	The Reality of Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.  
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. This particular piece deals heavily with domestic abuse, and there is reference to a violent death of a character from a child’s perspective. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.  
> Author’s Note(s): So, this may not be obvious at first glance (because I don’t get cover it in this chapter) but Robby is Bruce aka the Hulk. His full name is Robert Bruce Banner in most runs of Marvel, including the MCU.

-= LP =-  
**The Light of Mankind**  
_The Reality of Monsters_  
Part 01: Family  
-= LP =-  
“What cannot be said will be wept.” – Sappho  
-= LP =-

 

“How was school, Robby?”

 

When her son didn’t answer, Edith Banner looked towards the doorway where she had sensed him. As always, he was shuffling his feet in the doorway, hesitant to enter the room despite David not being in the room. It never failed to make her heart ache. She set aside her sewing project before opening her arms. Robby rushed to climb onto her lap. Edith rubbed her chin over his soft curls as the six-year-old snuffled into her neck, relishing the empathic burst of green and incense that was her only child.

 

“What’s wrong, little bear?”

 

Robby’s response was a shake of his head. The fingers of his right hand played with the collar of her dress. She could tell by the elbow pressed against her stomach that he had worked his left hand so that he could press his fist against his lips. He didn’t quite suck his thumb anymore—not since David had determined he was too old for it—but there were still times when he would get close. Since he had started school, Robby had become increasingly quiet when he was at home, not wanting to talk and wanting to be held. In turn, David had taken to discouraging her coddling him, claiming that it encouraged his retreat into infantilism.

 

She knew her husband had a point, that Robby needed to be tougher than he currently was. The other children who went to the base’s school belonged to the soldiers assigned to the base. Robby would already be seen as weaker than them because David was just there to liaison on research projects. Being essentially an outsider, Robby couldn’t afford to continue acting so young.

 

But Robby was still her baby, her little bear.

 

How could she refuse him anything?

 

Edith wrapped her arms around his small frame, taking care to keep the hold loose to stave off the potential of one of his attacks. She checked the clock on the wall across from her chair. David wasn’t due home for a few more hours. Closing her eyes, she set them rocking as she began to hum. After a while, she let the humming shift to soft singing, picking up the words of her favorite song.

 

She didn’t notice how she was letting her empathy trickle into the melody, letting it saturate the space around them until the air was thick with it. She didn’t notice how Robby pulled the energy in like a sponge, relaxing as something within himself recharged. Accustomed to his naturally thick shield, she missed how fast her boy’s mind was growing and connecting, how these stolen moments were the only thing keeping the little boy from collapsing into empathic exhaustion by the end of the day.

 

She had missed her son coming online.

 

Robby only knew that that being around people hurt, which was not anything new. Being around Daddy had always meant pain. Why would other people be any different?

 

-= LP =-

 

Robby was twelve when he woke up in the hospital with a soldier standing guard just inside the door. The moment the soldier saw that he was awake, he rapped his knuckles against the wood in a pattern. The man wasn’t worried even if he was cautious enough to not look away from Robby. He was expecting someone to answer, which meant that they probably wanted to talk at Robby. He just wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew that delaying things always made them _worse_ , so he forced himself to sit up and stay that way. Sensing his guard getting twitchy, Robby dropped his gaze to his now-crossed legs.

 

No need to challenge anyone and add to whatever situation this was.

 

Dad must already be pretty mad if he hadn’t let Mama come sit with him.

 

He shivered, something tugging at his memory. He closed his eyes as he shifted his legs up so that he could wrap his arms around them. Then he laid his cheek on his knees. It was difficult to resist the urge to rub his cheek. It was even harder not to bring his left hand up to rub the knuckles against his lips. He didn’t like it here; it felt weird and he knew that something was _wrong._ Physical pain was not anything new, but something hurt deep inside, even deeper than where he felt other people. It _hurt_ and that was—

 

Robby bit down on his fist to choke back the anger that was bubbling up inside him. The flash of pain helped to bring it back under control, but his breath was still too quick. He needed to calm down. Mama wasn’t here to help, but the breath control exercises were second-nature after doing them for so long. _Push it down. Push it back._ He almost had it under control when he felt thin fingers wrapping around his left wrist.

 

“Shh, little one,” the new woman said as he tried to jerk away. He froze in anticipation of pain at the command laced through her tone. This woman seemed to be in charge. Challenging her ran the risk of being worse than Dad’s temper, and later, Dad would be even more upset that he had caused even more trouble than he already had. Robby focused on trying to make himself smaller, coiling himself tightly in the way that made people forget about him. Like hiding under a blanket, he covered himself in his mother’s favorite song. The woman’s breath hitched. “Oh, that explains much of how you’ve gone unnoticed for so long, doesn’t it?”

 

It was tempting to ask what she meant by that, but there was a distracting warmth tickling against his wrist. Instinctively, he pulled the warmth in like he would his mother. It tasted different, less bitter and brown. It helped with the achy feeling but did _nothing_ to change the emptiness. The rage threatened to overwhelm him again as the meaning came from the darkness.

 

“She’s _gone_ , isn’t she?”

 

“They both are, sweetie,” the woman returned. Panic swelled to drown the rage, leaving Robby floundering at the shift. Dad couldn’t be dead. He was too strong to ever be defeated by anything. “Do you remember what happened?”

 

“No—why would I—”

 

The rage surged again. With it came the missing memory. Dad had been _so angry_ , even scarier than he was normally despite being completely sober. He attacked like a wild animal, intent only on destruction. Mama had fallen down almost immediately, and Robby had screamed it felt like he was taken every blow himself. He had lashed out, fast and _hard_ and focused. Oh, _God_ , he had dug his energy into his father’s like it was fingers and _ripped_ and _tore_ until the man had poured metaphysical blood over the ground to cover the physical blood staining the ground.

 

Everything had been _so very red_.

 

“It was _me_ ,” he whispered. Horror stole any volume he might have managed. He held his hands in front of him. He couldn’t _breathe_. He couldn’t _think_ past the realization that he had murdered his own father. What kind of monster was he that he could so easily defeat someone as strong as Dad? What kind of monster was he that he could so easily defeat him but had never even tried before it was too late to save his mother?

 

_What kind of monster was he?_

 

-= LP =-  
To be continued  
-= LP =-

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge/Competition Block:  
> Stacked with: Winter Bingo; FF; SHoE; SoC; PP; LL; NC; ToS; BAON; FPC; Sentinel AU; Truth; Slicing Life; Long Haul (N)  
> Representations: BC Use; David Banner; Sentinel & Guide; Uncomfortable Truths; Abuse Survivors are all Extraordinary; Mothers; Banners; Edith Banner  
> Bonus Challenges: Under the Bridge; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Mouth of Babes; Wabi Sabi; Middle Name; Nightingale; Tomorrow’s Shade; Unwanted Advice; Sitting Hummingbird; Uncivil Obedience; Call Me Dantes; Machismo – Fearful; These Boots)  
> Secondary Bonus Challenges: n/a  
> Space Address: 1A (Music)  
> Word Count: 1235


End file.
